


move with the tide

by bodytoflame



Series: fragile heart [19]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Communication, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Female Percy Jackson, Fluff, Genderbending, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, albeit a very spontaneous one, aw yeah, you know what really gets me going?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodytoflame/pseuds/bodytoflame
Summary: they’re 22. they’re alive. that's all that matters.--me? more wlw percabeth?
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: fragile heart [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553368
Comments: 15
Kudos: 100





	move with the tide

**Author's Note:**

> to the commenter (risingbluephoenix) who wanted domestic!fem!percabeth and kids...... this is not that! this spiraled out of control and i have no explanation for it. maybe i'll write a follow up?

**don't be lonely**   
**i'm right here by your side**   
**hold on to me**   
**you won't drown you will survive**

**tide ..//.. bearings**

* * *

The crisp summer night comes in through the window. There's still a few boxes to unpack, but most of their things are fully settled in.

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I still don’t know how I did it.” Percy somehow managed to graduate a year early, luckily New Rome was pretty accommodating with the whole _“I spent practically half my life saving the world”_ thing. Don’t get it wrong: she still worked her ass off. It was all worth it though, since it let them end up here; a stupid tiny apartment in Lower Manhattan that was _theirs_ (at least as long as they paid their rent).

For as much as she hated being away from Percy so much the past three years, it was good to spend some time as her own person. Especially with how protective they’d both become. That didn’t mean she didn’t miss her — quite the opposite. Being away from Percy manifested in the nightmares slipping into her subconscious as she slept; the panic of her heart skipping a beat whenever she saw a girl with short black hair.

College was also their first real fight. It was one thing that Annabeth applied to NYU, but being accepted (_as if_ she wouldn’t be) made it that much more real. It wasn’t an easy decision at all, but it was the closest thing she had to a childhood dream and she’d be damned if she didn’t follow through with it.

While NYU wasn’t as understanding of _“I need to visit my demigod girlfriend because we both have severe trauma from that time we went through the underworld”_, Percy was able to sneak away from New Rome for a bit without too much trouble, every once in a while. They never went more than a month without seeing each other — that was Percy’s promise to her.

She wouldn’t lie, it was hard. Really, _really_ hard. They talked most nights, and when Percy came to visit, sometimes they did little more than hold each other. But it was good for her: she was learning how to lead a somewhat normal life. She knew she would always be able to find her way back to Percy. _And they always had summer._

“The important part is you’re here,” Annabeth sighs, exhausted, melting into the couch. Her legs hook over the armrest and she lies her head in Percy’s lap, who twists a curl around her finger, just as tired.

Percy’s hand finds hers, interlocking their fingers like second-nature. “I am.”

“You always have been.” A beat. “You were there for me when my family wasn’t.”

“I told you, we’d make our own family. And we did. All of us.”

If camp was a family, Percy was _home_.

“Yeah. I guess I’m just… I’m just glad it’s you that’s here with me now.” She squeezes Percy’s hand. She’s gotten a little closer to her relatives over the years. The past was past, and there was nothing the Chase family wanted more than some peace. Even so, she often had trouble reconciling the events of her childhood with her emotions about it.

“Hey,” Percy tucks away the lone curl that’s fallen into her face. “Together, okay?”

“Mhm,” she hums, guiding Percy’s hand to fall across her waist, “together.”

Percy’s about to speak up, and say they should get some rest after all that heavy lifting, when Annabeth, almost _nonchalantly_, asks, “Do you want kids?” She doesn’t even look up.

“I…” The question throws Percy for a loop.

She’s rambling: “Because I do. Like, a lot. Not a lot of _kids_. One. Or two. But I do want…” She trails off, hoping she hasn’t scared Percy.

“I didn’t think you did.” Her response is quiet. She clarifies, “Uh, yeah. I do, but do you mean like… _when_?” She hasn’t really thought about it, but the moment Annabeth asks her, and the idea plays out in her mind, she knows she'd like nothing more.

“Eventually?” Annabeth responds, a question asked just as the word escapes her throat. “I want a real house, not an apartment, and my degree, and a job, one that pays me more than minimum wage, and… I also think I have to marry you first.”

“Is that a proposal?” It doesn’t phase her. They’ve been dancing around it for a while, both waiting for the time to feel right.

“_You wish_. I’m gonna get you when you least expect it.” She reaches up and taps Percy’s nose.

“Not if I beat you to it.”

Percy’s smirk sets off something in her. “And I mean a _proper_ proposal.” She sits up and swivels to face Percy, pointing a finger into her sternum; she means business. “With a ring, and some big romantic speech.”

“Okay.”

“_Okay_?”

Annabeth sees the mischievous look in her eyes the instant before she takes off running into their room. There’s a clamor of drawers being slung open on their tracks, and the shuffling of papers falling to the ground.

“The f— where did I—?” It sounds like she’s tearing the bedside table apart. She barrels down the hallway once she finds what she’s looking forward to, sliding into the plush carpet in front of the couch.

Her knees burn, and her heart pounds. She takes Annabeth’s hand, shaking her head, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She didn’t expect this _yet_, but she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her body and she can’t stop now.

“Um. I can’t think of anyone else who’d put up with me for eternity.” She’s sitting on the floor. Shouldn’t she be on one knee or something? “We’re a team. Always have been. You are the toughest, smartest, most passionate person I know, and I admire everything you’ve become.” The words keep coming out. “Annabeth Chase, will you marry me?”

Annabeth’s voice stays low and quiet. “Percy, are you serious?” She’s afraid to move lest she breaks the spell that's keeping Percy looking into her eyes.

Percy shows her the ring in the palm of her hand, “Yeah, I… was waiting for the right moment and… you gave it to me.”

It’s classic — a simple gold band with a single, modest diamond in the middle — but undeniably beautiful.

“Holy shit.”

“So is that a…”

Annabeth leans down, grabbing her face and pulling her into a deep kiss. “Yes. Absolutely. Give me that ring, Seaweed Brain.” She lets Percy slide it onto her finger, admiring the way the stone shines back as the light from their lone lamp hits it. She laughs, “This doesn’t feel real.”

“Is this stupid?” Percy asks, dragging Annabeth off the couch and into her lap.

“We’ve done a lot of stupid things. This is most certainly _not_ one of them.” She’s too engrossed in admiring the ring to even look up (or, less the ring itself, more what it signifies).

No one their age is getting married, not really. They’re all too focused on passing their classes. She really does want to marry Annabeth, but it nags at the back of her mind. “But you don’t think we’re too young or—?”

She thinks back on the past few years. It isn’t like they’re exactly _normal_. That surely gives them the right to rush by traditional standards. “I think that stopped being relevant a long time ago.”

Annabeth’s right; it soothes her worries. “Good. Because I don’t want to wait.” She kisses Annabeth’s shoulder. She’d marry her tomorrow if she could.

“Do you know how excited your mom’s going to be?” Annabeth can’t even imagine what Sally’s reaction will be. She’s extremely in-tune to her daughter and— she probably already knows Percy was planning this, doesn’t she?

“Well, I told her I was thinking about… Yeah. She was thrilled.”

_Of course._ She should’ve seen it coming. That girl tells her mother everything. Poor Sally’s probably already heard enough of Percy’s troubles for several lifetimes. “What’s _my_ mother going to think?” Annabeth laughs. _So, your daughter is marrying the daughter of your sworn enemy!_ It sounds cheesy enough to be the setup to a 90's sitcom.

“I,” Percy starts, “I actually asked her for permission.” It was _terrifying_, but Annabeth doesn’t need to know that she almost cried right before she asked. “And she said if anyone deserved her daughter it was the girl who went through Tartarus for her.”

The words go right through to her heart. Both Percy’s, and her mother’s. “Oh. You really thought about this.”

It’s true. She’s been dreaming up the perfect proposal for months — which meant talking to Annabeth’s parents: her mom, her dad, even her stepmom; and talking to her own parents. It meant picking out the perfect ring and planning the perfect way to ask her, and practicing her speech in front of the mirror.

“I actually talked to your dad too.” Their relationship wasn’t perfect, nor would it ever be, but Percy thought he had the right to be asked for his only daughter’s hand.

It means a lot to her, the fact that Percy made the effort to talk to her father. It seems like a thing he would consider important — the whole traditional engagement deal (though they’re _anything_ but) — and she’s trying to include him in her life. “Thank you.”

They’re still for a while, relishing in each other’s company. Percy tries to reconcile the past few minutes in her brain, but only comes up with her head spinning in a buzz. “I can’t believe I’m gonna marry you,” She murmurs against her neck.

“I thought of something.” Annabeth smiles, sidetracking the conversation for what she hopes is an amusing tangent.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe now you won’t have to angrily glare at as many boys. If they see this they might leave me alone.” She laughs, gesturing to the ring and thinking back on the times a _very unlucky_ man dared to even glance her way, gods forbid try to buy her a drink or swing a sleazy arm around her shoulder.

“I don’t glare angri—”

Annabeth raises her eyebrows.

In her defense, there’s only so many _“hey, is your friend single”_s she can take, even after the word _girlfriend_’s been said at least once. It wasn’t her fault most men were imbeciles.

She tried to make it clear that Annabeth wasn’t just her ‘girlfriend’, for all the connotations of the word’s worth: A subtle trail traced up her spine; a hand in her pocket; an ironclad grip on her thigh, _or one time, her butt (and she’s still not forgiven for how she made Annabeth blush)_; a swift motion pulling her onto her lap and into a kiss. And how could she forget the time she settled the score with one of Annabeth’s flirty classmates, spelling it out like she was talking to a child: “She’s my _girlfriend_. We are _dating_. Sometimes we even _kiss_.”

“So maybe I do.” Percy laughs.

People hit on Percy too (not at New Rome, no, they knew better), boys _and_ girls — she’s reconciled with the fact that she gives off some kind of _vibe_ (is it the haircut? it’s definitely the haircut). She‘s usually perfectly happy to let her actions show she’s spoken for; only rarely did Annabeth feel the need to intervene (and always, _men_, even though Percy joked she would be offended if they didn’t chase after her).

“You do what you have to,” she smiles. Annabeth was clingy too — it was hard not to be after everything — but not like that. It‘s in the way she looks at Percy with all the love the world could give, the trust in falling asleep on her shoulder in the library, the audacity to hold her hand every second she’s given the chance, and make people know she’s _hers_.

“And if they don’t take the hint?”

“Then you can tell them you’re my _fiancée_.” She emphasizes the new word, knowing it’ll drive Percy crazy. “I do think it says a lot more than ‘girlfriend’.”

Right. Girls had ‘girlfriends’, like guys had their ‘dudes’ and ‘bros’. _Fiancée_ was decidedly unambiguous. “I like that idea.”

Annabeth stands up, grabbing Percy’s hands and pulling her to stand face to face. “You should call your mom. She’ll be upset if you wait until tomorrow to tell her.”

She’s absolutely right, and as they both predicted, she’s never been happier (perhaps even more so than her own wedding).

Once they finish talking to sally, Annabeth finds her way back into Percy’s arms, standing by the phone. Percy rests her head on Annabeth’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her from behind. Annabeth doesn’t think she’s ever felt a peace quite like _this_ in her entire life. There’s an inherent quiet against the bustling noise of the streets of Manhattan — it all fades into the sidelines for the sound of Percy’s breathing.

“I wish I could marry you right now.”

She turns to face her, Percy's arms still draped over her shoulders, and laughs, knowing she’ll hate the truth: “Weddings take _planning_. You’ve gotta give me at least a year.”

“So, next summer?”

“If you’re _that_ desperate, yeah, sure, next summer,” she jokes, although she’d be hard-pressed to admit she feels the same. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume we’re having a beach wedding?”

“I was actually thinking,” she rolls a thumb across the bead on Annabeth’s necklace from the summer they met, “The lake. At camp?” _We’ll be safe there_, sticks in her mind, unspoken.

She can’t resist planting a kiss on Percy’s cheek. That’s pretty much her dream. “Keep going.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me more. You seem to have big plans.”

“The _biggest_. I learned from the best,” she smiles. “So… summer. Sunset. All of our friends are there. And our families. Your mom and my dad manage to set aside their differences for a few hours.”

She honestly couldn’t ask for anything better. “We have a giant chocolate cake.”

“With blue frosting.”

“Deal,” she obliges (who is she to say no?), “I’m wearing a gown… with flowers, and lace, all the way down to the floor and then some, and a deep neckline, so you’re staring at me all night, and—” She puts on a thinking face, ignoring Percy’s finger tracing a line down from her necklace. “_Wait_. Can we both wear a dress?”

“I don’t see why not?” Percy isn’t exactly one for formalwear; she rarely has the need to. The most she’s ever gotten dressed up in recent years was for her mom’s wedding — she wore a button up shirt with plain black pants and flats. While her closet’s split pretty evenly between men’s and women’s clothing, she can’t exactly see herself in a suit, and typical wedding dresses were so… _much_. But oh; _can she imagine Annabeth in that dress_. “I thought you hated dresses like that.”

She leans in close. “Oh, I think they’re gorgeous, I just hate it when _boys_ stare. I love it when _you_ do.”

Percy blushes; she should’ve seen that coming. “Ah.” She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over how much of a tease Annabeth can be.

“You‘re wearing a simple dress.”

“Good.”

“It’s plain, smooth satin, with a wide neck, and a low back, and _don’t you dare say a word_... You _know_ I’m right.”

Percy isn’t the kind for such a stylized dress, but she imagines Annabeth’s hands on her former Achilles spot, pulling her into a kiss, and she’s instantly sold. Actually, scratch that, she’s pretty sure she’s going to lose her mind.

“Yeah,” Annabeth smirks, “I thought so.”

“I think my brain just short-circuited.”

She laughs. “So what’s next?”

“I graduate, and we get a plot of land in some stupid, _nameless_ suburban town—”

“—And I draw up the plans and we build the damn house ourselves.” She quietly continues, “Then, maybe in a few years…”

Percy thinks for a bit. “I think I’d want to adopt. I mean if—” There’s no way in Hades she’d ever carry a child. The thought is terrifying and she’s almost positive Annabeth feels the same way. There’s too much to risk.

“—No. Yeah. I…” Annabeth _is_ on the same page, for the most part, but there’s a little voice in the deepest part of her mind that yearns for little blonde curls or eyes like the ocean. A bold thought crosses her mind: she could ask Hera for the blessing of a child with parts of both of them. Stupid? Yes. She’d be crazy to say it didn’t intrigue her, though. She imagines muted green eyes, the sea cloaked in a storm, and it seems so right.

The rest of her thoughts are telling her she’d be insane to try to carry a child — what about monsters? What if she couldn’t protect them? Not many things scare her, but evidently, that‘s one of them. It sends her head into a tailspin. It’s a bridge she’ll have to cross when they get there, she supposes. For now… “The idea of giving a kid a family that loves them… a stable home that they wouldn’t otherwise have… that’s worth a lot.” She lets the silence hang over them for a minute, reflecting on where she thought she would be at this age. _Dead, or worse_. “I can’t say I know exactly what I want right now. All I hope is that I’m as good of a mom as Sally was to you. She clearly did something right.”

“You will.” Percy’s eyes light up, her voice so sure of the words she speaks. “And we’ll figure it out.”

She can’t resist cupping Percy’s face and pulling her into a deep kiss, holding onto her as if her life depends on it. Neither of them say a word — there’s no need. Everything they’re thinking has already been said before in a thousand different ways, and they both know it.

“Tell me more about our life, Annabeth.” Indulging this fantasy with her feels like a heavy, comforting warmth blanketing her soul.

“We have… two. A boy and girl. When they’re young, I tuck them in with bedtime stories of how a seaweed-brained hero saved the world.”

“What about the truth?” Percy cocks her head; shouldn’t they be aware of the chance of danger?

“When they’re old enough to keep it secret? Of course. And I want them to know they have biological parents somewhere out there. That’s important.”

Percy understands: she knows firsthand the importance of heritage. “Gods… this all just seems so…” she gestures vaguely.

“Domestic? It _is_.”

“I can’t believe you’ve turned me into a _sap_, Annabeth Chase.”

“_Jackson-Chase_,” she corrects. She could get used to that.


End file.
